


Puzzles of Various Kinds

by Jaydeemz



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydeemz/pseuds/Jaydeemz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although he would never admit it out loud, the cuddling after sex really got to Connor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzles of Various Kinds

Although he would never admit it out loud, the cuddling after sex really got to Connor. Oliver was wrapped around him, damp warm skin pressed luxuriously close to his own, and seemed to be content with pressing endearing kisses at the top of Connor’s spine until sleep took them both. Connor breathed deeply as he wiggled his hips back, earning a delicious moan from Oliver behind him, and a smile crept over his lips.

He couldn’t regret not doing relationships before Oliver, because Oliver was the only one worth having a relationship with.

Without thinking much of it, Connor reached for Oliver’s hand, intertwining their fingers snugly. Oliver squeezed back, and huskily murmured his next words so close to Connor’s skin that he swore he could feel them as though they were etched on his nape.

"I love you."

***

Connor Walsh was a relentless lover. When he chose to wreck the man underneath him, he did it thoroughly and without any hesitation, momentarily pushing his own needs at the back of his mind as he repeatedly pushed his conquest over the edge before he finally would focus on himself. He was a generous lover, and Oliver often found himself utterly exhausted after sex because of Connor’s enthusiasm.

Which was why morning sex wasn’t his favourite, unless he could drift off to sleep after their few rounds. Nevertheless, he would never be disappointed to wake up to find himself on the edge of orgasm and Connor’s lips eagerly at work.

He barely had time to register what was happening before his back arched off the bed and he was whispering his lover’s name over and over again, limbs trembling with pleasure before he slumped back down over the sheets. Soon, Connor slid up to lie beside Oliver, and innocently reached over to kiss him. 

Oliver wasn’t disappointed, especially not after such a mind-blowing way to be robbed from sleep, but he was a bit curious as he continued to lazily press his lips against Connor’s. Long fingers ran through Oliver’s hair and he anticipated the rough tug that would give Connor access to the sensitive skin of his neck — where deep red marks had blossomed after last night — but it never came. Connor just seemed content with kissing, and so was Oliver, really, but this was such a stark contrast to Connor’s usual bedroom attitude that Oliver eventually began to wonder if something was wrong.

Wonder became concern when Connor ended the kisses and pressed his forehead in the crook of Oliver’s neck, and simply began tracing random patterns over Oliver’s bare waist. When Oliver shivered, Connor pulled the duvet back around them and snuggled closer, which made Oliver shiver for entirely new reasons.

"What’s wrong?" Connor murmured in Oliver’s neck. "You’re tense."

Oliver gave a dry chuckle. “I should be asking you what’s wrong. I know you, and you aren’t cuddling type. Well, not this much cuddling anyways.”

Connor perked up, his eyes mischievously twinkling as his hand trailed down to rest just inside Oliver’s thigh, making the man shudder excitedly. “We can get right back into it, if you’d like.”

"T-then," Oliver gasped as Connor’s fingers trailed higher, "why’d you stop in the first place?"

"Had other plans," Connor murmured as he pressed a searing kiss over the bruises on Oliver’s neck.

Oliver blinked the dizzying pleasure away and forced in a deep breath. “What are they?”

Connor’s hand stilled, and Oliver finally managed to breathe properly. “Are you sure?”

"No, but I’m curious."

Connor rolled away from Oliver, immediately making the other man cringe at the cold air biting at his skin. He reached down under the bed — giving Oliver a beautiful view for a few moments — and pulled out a bright pink and blue book with a blunt pencil. He quickly scooted back to Oliver, only to force both their pillows behind Oliver so he would sit up, and then plopped the crossword puzzle on his lap.

"It’s Sunday," Connor teased. "Don’t most couples do a crossword on Sundays?"

"Dressed, and over breakfast… at the dining room table," Oliver replied, completely amused as he flipped through the pages. He stopped at a miscellaneous page when a puzzle jumped out at him, and filled it out of habit. A second clue was solved and the answer scribbled, and he relaxed in his pillows as Connor pressed their bodies together and resumed his previous position on Oliver’s chest. Three more clues later, Oliver reached down to give Connor a long, passionate kiss that hopefully said everything that words couldn’t.

When they ran out of clues to solve, they moved on to the next puzzle, eventually intermingling sex and crossword puzzles for the rest of the morning until hunger drew them from between the sheets and toward the kitchen.

And when Oliver dropped the empty casserole in the dishwater, babbling about that last clue from their third puzzle, Connor couldn’t quite manage to make his fond laugh sound condescending.


End file.
